


Embers of Red

by baetakids



Category: Homestuck
Genre: AU, Alpha kids - Freeform, AlternateUniverse, Blood, Cottoncandy - Freeform, Demons, Demonstuck, Dreams, F/F, F/M, Flashbacks, Gore, Hunters, JaneJake - Freeform, M/M, Multi, Violence, Weapons, beta kids - Freeform, demonhunters, dirkjake - Freeform, johndave - Freeform, more trolls to be added probably, most relationships are either pale or black, rosemary, sweet ass katanas, they'll probably only make cameos except for kanaya, tw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-06 09:15:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4216062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baetakids/pseuds/baetakids
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>-Demonstuck AU-</p><p>They were always aware of their existence. The Strilondes had the duty to annihilate the demons all, no mater what. He always kept the secret hidden, only to protect him of course. But sometimes no matter how hard you try to hide a secret, a menace will always find out.</p><p>And that menace was John Egbert.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ah thanks for even clicking this story! ;-; I've wanted to write an AU for a while now, and had a plot in mind.  
> Also please keep in mind the TW's! I like writing descriptions of gore and violence so keep that in mind.

Creak Creak

The pleasant sound of the creak of a young boy's swing filled the air. He laughed as his raven locks swayed with the summer breeze. He kicked his legs higher in the air, the boy liked the feel of swinging higher and higher, until it felt as if he were a free bird flying in the sky.

"Careful, John! We don't need more bruises and scrapes!" his father yelled warningly from the kitchen window, which was currently open. The sweet scent of the cake cooling on the window sill filled the air. The raven-haired male smiled. Cooking was his dad's specialty, especially any fancy cakes. He was sure no cake his father made would ever make him sick to his stomach!

Or so he thought.

His dad told him his grandmother had always been handy at baking, too. John believed him, but he had never met his grandmother, sadly. His father said that she had been assaulted long before he had been born, and had died from her injuries. It made him surprised at the how cruel the world was. How could these sick people murder for fun?

His dad tried explaining to him a lot of times, that things like that just happened sometimes and that his grandmother had been an unlucky victim.

John sighed as his fascination with the swings dwindled. He jumped up from the moving swing and landed on his knees. His tan, dirt covered legs ran to his nearby pogo ghost. It had been a custom made present from his dad many years ago, and he still enjoyed it. He swung back and forth on the toy, the blazing heat bearing down on him and his lime green ghost ride.

"John, it's time to come in! The cake is ready!" his dad's calls sounded across their large front yard.

"Coming!" the boy replied as he slipped of his pogo ride. His knees were caked with soot and dirt and were now bleeding a little from minor scrapes. The boy wasn't alarmed, this always happened and he had grown used to it. He ran across the yard as he left behind the playful aura from all the kids skipping rope on their yards.

He opened the front door to his basic white house hurriedly and slammed it behind him. He entered his living room, which was oddly decorated with his father's harlequin figures. The stone fireplace was turned on, it's orange and yellow flames flickering, despite it being the middle of summer. Sometimes John swore his father was insane. He guessed it was really in honor of his grandmother, since her picture was hung above the fireplace. His father had never had a picture of his grandmother in her later years, coincidently they planned to get a mother, son portrait the week she was killed. Instead, they had a picture of her when she was a teenager, no more than 18,framed.

Grandmother did look a lot like his dad, and a little like John. She was a ravenette, her hair was wavy and cropped closely to her chin. She was a bit paler than John, but they shared the same aqua blue eyes and glasses. The dress she wore was cyan and complimented by matching pearl earrings and a necklace.

She looked surprisingly elegant.

John hurried, wiped his dirty sneakers on the woven carpet in his living room and made his way into the kitchen.

"Son, look at you! You're covered in grass stains and dirt," His father chuckled as he picked John up with smile. His white fedora was covered in flour, the white apron he wore was covered in batter and frosting. John smiled, hugging his father back. They may have had different interest, but they were both messy.

"I warned you to not scrape your knees, we'll have to fix those later, right now lets enjoy some of my shortcake," He announced as he put John down.

"Strawberry?" John flashed a toothy grin as he jumped into the cushioned wooden chairs at the table.

"Of course." His father cut two pieces of strawberry shortcake and gently set them on their own decorative china plates from the cupboard. They were an heirloom from nanna, along with a tea set that they only used in the winter.

His father passed the delicacy to John along with a glass of cool milk. He ate a forkful of the treat and tried to pick at the strawberries. Something wasn't right.

It wasn't the cake, it was the sudden change in atmosphere.

"Dad? Did it just get hotter in here?" He asked as he drank his milk.

"It seems so, it's probably just the heat from the oven," His father replied, but John was still skeptical.

Suddenly a loud crash was heard from what seemed to come from outside. The children's frightened cries and screams were heard all over the street. Pleas of help were filling John's eardrums.

"What was that?!" His father jumped to his feet and opened the door. "Stay here, John!" But the words meant nothing as a sudden impact blew up their living room. Glass shattered as John was smacked against the wall, his skull aching as it impacted the drywall. A beam from above creaked and snapped as it fell, heading towards him. He screamed and tried to stand and run, but he couldn't move.

His screams of agony filled the house as he was nearly crushed under the weight of the splintery wooden beam. His eye was blinded by flowing blood coming from a cut above his eyebrow, caused by the debris. John coughed and gasped for air, his eyes shut tight, expecting this to be a dream. He realized the heat was unbearable.

The heat.

Fire.

He was stuck.

Oh God he'd burn to death.

'Oh God, no! Not fire!' he thought as tears flowed from his eyes, blurring his vision even more than his cracked glasses. 'Dad?! Where's dad?!'

"Dad!" He coughed up blood and wheezed, struggling for breath even more than before, "DAD!" he screamed with all his energy.

There was no answer.

The heat prickled his arms. His raven hair was singing and the heat was becoming insanely unbearable as it inched closer and closer, tormenting the 9 year old boy that he was stuck and would be burned to death.

"..Dad," he sobbed, his energy slowly fading, the burden on top of him growing. He tried to scan his surroundings, looking to see if his dad was anywhere, or if he escaped to safety. His eyes widened as he realized his whole house was on fire, everything was destroyed as far as he could tell. But it wasn't much, since orange and yellow was all he could see beyond the utility room and the door leading to the living room.

But his breath hitched as he saw the gory sight.

It wasn't something a 9 year old could unsee.

He struggled to not throw up and covered his mouth, only letting a small amount of phlegm pass through.

His dad... His dad...

Was dead.

All his family was gone, and soon he would be too.

The flames were only a foot away from his face now, he could feel his eyebrows start to burn away. He was terrified. Soon, the flames consumed him and he couldn't help but scream. Scream as much as his vocal cords permitted him to.

"NANNA! NANNA! HELP!" it was a dumb plea, but he said whatever he desperate mind came up with.

He couldn't help it when his flesh was burning up each second.

Suddenly, John couldn't feel the searing pain and agony of the twinkling fire. He lay where he was and looked up, his consciousness fading way. The eye on the side of his face that hadn't been burned off and blinded widened.

Her pale hands held his hands. They were icy to the touch.

He started fading away as he croaked his last words.

"N-nanna?"


	2. Chapter 2

His red eyes were laser-focused into the science video the Summer School class was watching on amphibians and reptiles. Anything from frogs and salamanders to crocodiles and turtles was being played on the bright screen.

Dave forced a half-smile as he drew a crappy looking crocodile on his notes paper. He wrote "Nakodile" at the top of the drawing. It was a new name he thought up in replacement of crocodile. He noticed when their jaws snapped shut they made a 'nak' sound. Well, at least he thought they did.

Obviously the class was supposed to be taking notes, they weren't just going to waste the half an hour the teacher had set aside to stare at a Smartboard screen. Dave knew that, but he never took notes. It was a bad habit, but he could just listen to a fact once and memorize it. Someone could show him how to ride a bike once, and in one or two tries, he knew.

He wasn't a sucky student, he just "needed to do his work more and focus," his teacher had told Bro at parent-teacher conferences, "and get his head out of those video games, fantasy isn't the same as science!" She explained this was why she had failed him in science, and with the C- he had in Social Studies, retaking the class in Summer school was the only option.

Social Studies and Science wasn't the Strider's strength in school. Social Studies? The past to form a country didn't matter. All that was in the history books was lies, lies the government had made to protect the citizens from learning the truth. It was good reasoning, too. No one wanted to know that Reckonings have happened before, but had all been defeated by the line of Striders.

People would always live their lives in fear that way. Not to mention everyone's pending hopes for humanity's survival would be in the palms of the Strider's hands. Burdens and fear did not mix well at all. 

Science? All they were taught was the dark magic that demons used, leading all their teachers to believe they liked video games too much. They thought shape shifting and illusions was real, and it was. It was just as real as the eternal youth of the Reckoness of Life, a title passed down by the generations of Demon Queens. 

Hey, there were prices to pay if you were aware of the existence of Demon-Spawn.

The blonde tapped his pencil on his wooden desk, occasionally chewing on the eraser of out complete boredom. Nothing exciting ever happened in the class, well not since Bro forgot to give Dave his lunch and delivered it by throwing it at the class window, breaking it as it landed on his desk.

He shouldn't have wished for excitement.

Just as the video was about to end, a siren signaled off in the distance. Then another sounded closer to the school. Suddenly, the siren sounded in their class, in unison with the whole school. The flashing red light startled everyone and Dave realized.

The Reckoning had started.

The blaring ringing of the alarm made his eardrums want to burst as his teacher announced, "Everyone, get to the bomb shelter! Follow the older classes!" She announced, panicking.

Dave didn't wait for the class he burst through the door with only one goal.

He had to find Dirk.

"Dave! Where are you going?! Get back here!" she yelled, but he paid no attention.

'Oh crap, I don't know what class he's in! He should be in the fifth grade wing, but they could be anywhere by now!' He mentally cursed himself.

"Dirk! Dirk?! Dirk where are you?!" He yelled as loud as he could, struggling to be heard over the siren.

The school was shaking, the impact of the meteors wasn't too far now. The blonde ran and ran, but the fifth grade wing was empty now, only scattered supplies left. Another crash to his right as a column holding up the roof collapsed. Being only a nine year-old, his legs couldn't take the impact. Glass shattered as he protected his eyes and fell on the floor. 

He coughed and hacked as dust and debris got caught in his lungs. He wheezed and couldn't bring himself to move, "D-Dirk! Dirk!" he yelled.

He struggled and stumbled when he got up and ran, burying himself deeper and deeper into the school, "Dirk! Where are y-" He was pushed forward as something crashed behind him, more dust and debris filling his lungs as he wheezed and coughed.

"Dirk?" But his eyes widened as he realized it wasn't Dirk, it was...

A demon.

She looked to be about his age, but Dave knew it could've been an illusion. Her hair was gingery and covered with dust and debris, obviously from the falling school. Her skin was tan and covered with freckles. She would've looked normal if it wasn't for her sharp fangs and pointy ears. Her eyes were completely red and covered by some mechanical looking red glasses. She cackled and smiled, but she still looked evil.

"I can smell your eyes! They taste like a delicious red apple!" Dave tried to scoot away, but her grip on him tightened until he couldn't breath well. Her completely black nails gripped his jaw bone and mad him face her. "Reckoness will be quite pleased when I bring her a Firekind."

"Quit screwing around!" Another demon jumped from the ceiling. Dave cursed himself for not bringing his dagger with him. "You blind bat, just get the stupid kid and let's go before these meteors smash us."

The demon looked about two years older. Her hair was a matted blonde mess. She wore glasses, one of the lenses was mechanical and seemed to be studying him. She had pale skin and the same pointy ears. Her fangs were a bit larger and her lips were a dead blue. Her one visible eye was an unnatural aqua.

The demon on top of him sniffed the air and hissed, "Hunterblood."

She had no time to react as a katana blade pierced her skin and went through her stomach. She coughed up dark red blood all over the blonde boy's face. His eye's widened at the sight of gore spilling from her stomach. 

Dirk kicked her off of Dave as her body went limp on the floor.

The blonde demon looked stunned at the body of her former partner, "Terezi!" She yelled. "YOU KILLED HER!" She was full of rage as her sharp black fingernails aimed for Dirk.

His katana blade made swift movements as it sliced her neck, making a slit at her throat. Blood sputtered everywhere as she coughed and hacked, struggling to breath. Another swift slice of metal and the blade was pushed into her heart. Her lifeless body fell face first as dark red blood pooled around the area of her wounds.

Dave was speechless as he looked up at his older brother. His face wasn't visible, he wore an orange gas mask with yellow flames on it. His white shirt was covered in blood from the demons, as well as his worn black jeans. His favorite katana was dripping in blood. 

His bloody glove grabbed Dave's hand as he pulled him towards the office exit, not saying a word to each other about what had just happened before Dave's eyes.

Dave would never know how sorry his older brother was for the sight he had just witnessed.


	3. Chapter 3

_Fire._

 

_Fire everywhere._

_It burned._

_Its burned out whatever sanity he had._

_"Come to us," was all it pleaded._

_Obey. Submit. Consume._

_And destroy._

 

  
The blonde jumped up from his dream, startled. The damned dreams never stopped coming, and he _hated_ them. Only one message had always come through, "Come to us." Whatever it meant, he could tell it wasn't good. What good came from the searing pain of the flames and rage he couldn't control?

 

     Nothing super there he could think of.

 

     His pale hands grabbed two handfuls of his blonde locks. His head was against his pale, freckled knees. The dreams had gone on since he was nine. Since that rueful day that no one thought would ever come.

 

      He groaned knowing what price waking up in the morning came with. He swore an admission to an insane asylum would be better than the job he had to endure everyday. But then again, who'd like to do the dirty work for the government anyway? Killing away nuisances that murdered innocent lives.

 

     Being a Demon-Hunter was what ruined Dave.

 

      Knowing was what hurt the most. He knew at a young age one day he'd have to put down everything he did when the Reckoning started. All his life he had been informed this.

 

     But that day had come too early.

 

     Who on earth would've guessed a nine year old would have to drop out off school?

 

     Drop out school and take on the family business. Not alone, though. He had his older brother, Dirk, but their relationship had been sour for a while. It had been since the incident.

 

     Since Bro died.

 

     Since the Reckoning began eight years ago, the Strider duo had been through rough training. Killing Demon-Spawn in abandoned cities, towns, and neighborhoods, which had been destroyed when the meteors were summoned. Dealing with the best weapons and killing techniques, tracking down the different classes of demons, you name it.

 

     Of course, they also had to track down locations with the most bioelectricity stored in them. These places had mostly been the places wrecked and abandoned because of meteor landings, which meant a perfect energy source for a demon. Finding these places had been the Lalonde's job. Rose particularly did most of the work with calculating and such, but Roxy was very handy in working with electronics.

 

     A knock was placed on his poster covered door, "Are you decent?"

 

     Dave ran a hand through his hair and placed back on his shades. Without a reply Rose opened the door, already dressed in a short black dress with a squiddle face in the corner of it, complimented by black ankle boots and lavender leggings. her purple toned metallic  bioelectricity measurer in her hand. He shot her a questioning glance.

 

     "If you want to make it in time to the Forgotten Wasteland, I suggest you get dressed as soon as possible."

 

    The blonde's red orbs widened behind his glasses, "They granted us permission? No way."

 

     She nodded, a smirk planted on her black lips, "After months and months of pestering the City, they caved and granted Dirk permission."

 

     "Wait, why didn't he ever tell me?"

 

     Rose made her signature exasperated face, "Obviously, he wanted to surprise you. If not, then maybe it was to mend your troublesome relationship somewhat. Now get dressed, the place crawling with bioelectricity."

 

~

    

     Dave's forehead rested on the damp, cold, glass of the car window. The rain pounded on the red SUV, Which made it more difficult for Dirk to drive. He uncomfortably shifted in the tan leather seats, the hilt of his sword was digging into his neck, making him anxious to just get out of the vehicle.

 

     Dirk placed his orange tinted metallic bioelectricity measurer where the stereo should've been, "The Lalonde's say this place has been dead in bioelectricity for years, but suddenly it's ratings are off the charts," he explained, his glove covered hand pointing to the scale on the measurer's screen. "They don't know what's causing it, but we suspect that it might have something to do with the stored energy the meteor that hit there brought."

 

     "Holy shit, I think you might've missed the fact that the bioelectricity levels also match the ratings for Elemental Demons," Dave pointed out. Elemental Demons had always been the most powerful, capable of causing mass destruction if they needed to. They were the Reckoness's loyal servants, even more than the Trackers, who would bring back whoever the Reckoness wanted to be turned into one of her own.

 

     However, they were always preferred to not go outside the Headquarters, wherever that was, unless it was for special occasions, leading many to believe that they didn't exist.

 

     "The ratings do match up, but we can't know that for sure," Dirk replied.

 

     "What if it's a Firekind?"

 

     "There is no Firekind," the amber eyed male snapped. "All of that species has been terminated."

 

     Dave noticed whenever he brought up Firekind, Dirk was always wary on the subject, so he didn't pester him for information as much as he used to. They might've disagreed often, but they respected each others boundaries.

 

     They drove in silence for a while, Dave focused more on the surroundings outside. Trees were becoming even more charred and leafless as they drove on. Every once in a while he would bump his head on the glass, the result of a bumpy road. It was a miracle they hadn't drove into a meteor crater yet with all the holes the street provided. Even the outside of the houses looked eerie, the swings rusted, being blown gently by the wind, abandoned jump ropes, even yellowing plastic boxes of chalk.

 

     It was upsetting to think this whole area had been wiped out.

 

     The news reports and documented records had said no one had come out of the accident alive in this area. Residents of the area who had been injured had passed in the hospitals, and most who survived went missing and were never found. Especially those who had a firsthand witness of the "Sapphire Savior." Myths were made up as a method to make the bleak events not seem tragic for the survivors, and one of those had been the Sapphire Savior.

 

     Some witnesses swore they had seen a woman emerging from the flames, wearing an elegant dark blue dress, carrying a kid who was severely injured, and appeared dead. Claims had said she seemed unworried and kept walking into the forest, humming a lullaby that haunted everyone who heard it.

 

     But Dave knew that story was bullshit and shouldn't even be considered to be real.

 

     The engine came to an abrupt stop as Dirk stopped the car, parking it on a cracked curb, "This is all we can go, the road gets worse from here on out."

 

     "Yeah, no shit," Dave replied as he pulled his red hoodie over his head and zipped up his black jacket. The drive had taken longer than expected, and the sun had set a while ago. With the cool April wind and rain, it was chilly.

 

     "Let's go," Dirk motioned for Dave as they headed towards the guarded gates to the real warzone.

 

~

 

     Meanwhile, a raven haired male made his way to his once pristine neighborhood.

 

     _"Wow, it's been so long I don't even remember where my house is,"_ He thought to himself as he gripped the box he was holding, it's contents being a homemade cake.

 

     He hummed as he mentally praised himself for fooling the guards at the crudely built gates, which were meant to protect the center of the catastrophe that had happened eight years prior. Nanna had been telling him he was getting better at illusions, which was great news since he wouldn't need to manually create pranks anymore.

 

     Sure he could've flown over the gate without being noticed, but where was the prankster fun in that?

 

     The rain was beating down on his head, his overgrown locks sticking to his now tanned cheeks and forehead. The cold of the liquid was pricking at his arms, it didn't help that it was windy. His feet ached for a rest, but he couldn't stop. His damp blue flannel shirt was sticking to his skin, and his black jeans were no exception. His dark blue jacket had been placed over the white carton box, him getting soaked was ok, but not so much for the cake. A cake could not be made again until tomorrow, and tomorrow the special day would be gone. Exasperation was beating down on him, he'd spent hours walking these streets, looking for the one thing he remembered from his house.

 

     The lime green ghost ride.

 

    _"Ughhh, I hope he knows I'm going to this trouble so we can celebrate."_ He thought as his blue orbs noticed something. Yes! It was the park that was a couple houses down from his! He was close, he could feel it.

 

     His black sneakers crunched against the stray gravel on the street. He started picking up speed as he found what he was looking for. The ghost ride. He slowed down his pace and tried to catch his breath as he jogged in front of his house. His eyes couldn't believe what they saw.

 

     The devastation wasn't what he was expecting.

 

     He couldn't even call his old home a home anymore. Only the skeletal structure was left of it, some of the drywall still on there, but it was charred and would eventually crumble down. He made his way to his front yard, his shoes stepping on only soot, the grass refused to grow on their once neatly trimmed lawn. His hand reached for the handle on the door, a habit his house triggered, but it wasn't there. The living room was gone, in it's place was a large crater. The only choice was to fly above it.

 

     He hated summoning the wind. Manipulating elemental bioelectricity attracted hunters, and hunters wasn't something you wanted when you were a demon. Not that he didn't already radiate enough of the darned radiation. That accident had made it permanent.

 

     No way in hell he'd every speak of that incident again.

 

     He breathed out and waited for the sensation to come to him. The winds clouded up around him and he floated towards the kitchen, the air whipping at his hair as it stung his face slightly. Freedom was all he felt when he flew like this, but it could never last for long out in the abandoned areas. His knee bent as he landed himself on the once white tiled floor of his kitchen.

 

     The sadness this room contained was overwhelming.

 

     He sat next to the spot of blood, it was stained into the tile from age.

 

     It was the spot where his father smashed his head and died.

 

     Tears threatened to spill from his eyes as he lay the box in between he and his dad's death spot. His hand reached for two cracked pieces of wood, where he placed the pre-cut slices of sweetness. The crude wooden plate would have to do. He slid it next to him.

 

     "It's shortcake, dad," he tried to flash a fanged smile, "Strawberry of course."

 

     The tears slipped down his cheeks when he realized he wouldn't get a chuckle or a response from his dad back.

 

     "Nanna helped me make it, she really is a good cook. Just like you said."

 

     No response.

 

     "I helped, too. We modified it so it had some of your recipe and some of mine."

 

     Silence.

 

     He sniffed and wiped away the tears but they kept flowing. He didn't realize he still had sympathy.

 

     Any humane emotion should've been wiped from him, but there was still love. And sorrow.

 

     Oh _God_ he missed his dad with all his dead, black, cold heart.

 

     "We didn't have any candles, or else we could've wished for a birthday wish! And maybe you could've made them trick candles," he smiled at the memory of him struggling to blow the candles on his fourth birthday, not knowing they would never die down.

 

     "Dad?"

 

     Nothing.

 

     "It's my birthday, you know that right?"

 

     The tears returned.

 

     "I'm seventeen today."

 

     He bent his knees so they would cover his pathetic face. His blue glasses were fogged from the tears he was shedding.

 

     "It's my birthday."

 

    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh please let me know about any grammar errors I'd appreciate it.


	4. Chapter 4

The raven haired male dusted himself off, the remaining dust and debris sticking to his pants. "Bye..." he stated, with a heavy heart, knowing he couldn't return until next year. If it were up to him he'd stay here forever. But he couldn't, nanna would be disappointed. He would never be safe in any other place besides the Headquarters.  
  
     Suddenly there was a disturbance in the wind.  
  
     His nose twitched.

     He growled at the conversation he could hear two males having.  
  
     "Hunters," he muttered in annoyance.  
  
     His lips twitched with a smile as he realized what a fun prank he could pull on the two imbeciles who actually had the guts to step foot in his neighborhood. This day just kept giving John even more chances to test out his limits.  
                                                                                                                          
                                                                 ~  
      
     The two blonde males walked towards the brown plank barrier. Dirk had been clasping a rusty, old key, which Dave had assumed opened the front gate to restricted area. Something was off. The more they got closer to the gate, the more the hairs on his skin stood. He couldn't decipher if it was nervousness, excitement, anxiousness, or if something fishy was up.  
  
     And suddenly he realized what had been off, "Dirk..."  
  
     The elder responded with a sigh, "What now?"  
  
     "If this place is so heavily guarded, then where did all the guards go?"  
  
     "What do you mean? They're right there..." His voice trailed off as he realized that there were no guards. "Holy shit, this doesn't look good."  
  
     He ran after his brother, the piercing cold prickling his face even more than it had before. His red sneakers were muddy, and his feet ached from the many blocks they walked. He caught his breath as he jogged towards his amber eyed brother. He was staring blankly at two objects, then he realized what the grim sight was.  
  
     The lifeless bodies of the guards lay crumpled on the floor. Dirk was currently examining anyplace a pulse could be heard, but his ear heard no sound of a heartbeat. "They're dead, alright..."  
  
     But Dave noticed something disturbing. Both men had small holes in their shoulder, almost like fang marks, which were currently oozing drops of blood. Their skin was a sickly pale white, and the looks on their faces looked confused, yet scared. Their eyes were lifeless, obviously, but he had seen this happen before, when the eyes were completely black it would only mean one thing.  
  
     He scoffed as he took out his red bioelectricity measurer. The bodies were completely drained of it, which was not usually the case in normal death, their bioelectricity should've disappeared within a day, not within hours. "Looks like a demon had a nice dinner tonight."  
  
     "We can't do anything about it now, looks like the damned Demon-Spawn got here before us," Dirk stated with a scowl. He grabbed his bioelectricity measurer and pointed it toward the abandoned neighborhood. His eyes widened behind his pointed glasses, "The levels rose three bars since last time, there has to be a group meeting of them here."  
  
     "...Or an Elemental," Dave muttered under his breah as Dirk slipped the old key into the keyhole, he looked at it skeptically, like it would snap in his hands in a instant. The door creaked loudly, and it sounded as if it could fall off at any given moment. Dirk shot him a glare as this happened, which the blonde guessed meant he had heard his remark and he didn't appreciate it.  
  
     As they walked in, Dave gripped his sword tightly, feeling anxious as if anything would jump out at him. It was unnaturally windy and the sky was an ebony black, speckled with the few milky white stars that dared appear behind the storm clouds. Usually, their source of light on dark nights was the moon, but all it's beams were trapped behind the gray clouds, looming over the moon. Thankfully, the elder Strider had remembered to bring his flashlight and it's artificial light illuminated a few feet in front of them.   
  
     Dave's eyes shifted, examining every crack where something could jump out at him. He wished he hadn't looked around, his red orbs caught the sight of black shadows, stained into the sidewalk. This had been the case for many of the people caught in the meteor storm. If they didn't die from their injuries or being crushed by debris, they died because they were burned alive instantly, they only evidence being their shadow, burned into the sidewalk for eternity. Not only that, but this neighborhood was covered in toys, broken and dirty with age. Broken dolls, boxes of spilled chalk, punctured basketballs, you name it.  
  
     "Why doesn't anyone ever clean up this shit? It fucking creepy and not like those stupid, not ironic animes you watch."  
  
     Dirk shot him a glare and let out a sigh, "Obviously, they're way too scared to clean it all up. A couple years back, this place was a breeding ground for demon's energy, but they've wiped it out and resorted back to stealing 'souls.'"  
  
      "It's still creepy. They seriously have to stop being pussies and clean up," Dave replied. "They need to stop letting the Hunters do the dirty work, it's not as hard as people think."  
  
     Dirk let out a chuckle, restraining himself from bursting into laughter, "Not hard, huh? It takes full time training for five years straight to be a good, ten if you want to be professional. The only reason they consider us good at what we do is because our Bro and his Bro before that were looked up to as heroic--"  
  
      At the mention of their guardian, the blonde growled, never wanting the name to be mentioned, "Shut your goddamn mouth. Shut the fuck up! Never say that  _fucking_ name again! Never again," the red eyed male loosened the grip on his blade in an attempt to calm down. But he couldn't. All it took was his name to be said, a picture to be seen, that was all he would need to snap in a panic attack or a flash of brief rage.   
  
     The two walked in silence, Dirk knowing he'd been such an idiot to mention the name. Although it never seemed so, it stung whenever his younger brother lashed out at him. It made him guilty that only Dave was angered easily with a single trigger word. He would change from his sarcastic, calm, 'ironic' (although Dirk called it being a smartass,) self to a short-tempered, furious, rage-filled person. It was in his nature though, it would have to be a side effect if Dirk wanted to keep his brother safe, it's how he knew he was doing his job right.  
  
     He wished it wouldn't have to be like this, but it had to.  
                                                
                                                                 ~  
  
     The red-eyed blonde swore this was the most boring demon hunt ever. They hadn't encountered a single demon, and their readings were still high on the charts. "Are you sure these things aren't broken?" Dave asked as he pointed to the measurer, eyeing Dirk skeptically.  
  
     "Of course not. I've perfected these for years, carefully crafting the wires and circuits to my liking. They'll malfunction once in a while, but it's nothing I can't fix," the elder snapped.  
  
     Dave rolled his eyes. Dirk was such a dweeb when it came to technology. For Christ's sake he even built robots for fun.  
  
     Dirk's head snapped up from his measurer. "Did you hear that?"  
  
     "Hear what? All I hear is dead ass silence expect for this conversation," he replied as Dirk threw his measurer in his pocket.  
  
     But he started to hear it slightly. It was footsteps coming from meters away, the gravel crunching under someone's feet, but then he started hearing the pleas of help. The cries were pitiful, desperate, as if the person yelling knew no one would respond. The voice was distinctly male  
  
     The winds grew heavy and wild, nearly blowing off Dave's sunglasses. It whipped off his red hood, leaving his head vulnerable to the rain. The storm that had reduced to drizzle became violent, instantly turning into drops again. Blonde locks covered his eyes as they dripped at how soaked the were.  
  
     "Help!"  
  
     Instantaneously, the winds died down significantly. A male was running towards the duo, pure terror embedded on his face. "Help! Help! It's coming after me!"   
  
     The boy looked to be about Dave's age, around seventeen. He was covered in bruises and scratches, which looked fresh and red. He had a gash on his forehead, one of his eyes closed due to the cherry red blood flowing from it. His blue eyes were filled with terror and exhaustion behind his cracked, blue rimmed glasses. His raven locks were soaked and overgrown, they were slightly muddy. His shirt was soaked, bloody, and it's sleeves were torn to shreds in some areas.  
  
     He halted to a stop when he saw the hunters, taking a step back, as if he didn't trust them much. Dirk was the first to acknowledge him. "Calm down, kid. Relax and tell us what's chasing you."  
  
     Dave interrupted, being skeptical on how a civilian had managed to intrude restricted areas. He gripped the handle of his sword. "How the hell did you even get in here? This is restricted, no one's allowed here."  
  
     "I- I was just walking home, my nanna asked me to pick up some late-night ingredients, she was busy working on a last minute birthday cake! As I walked home, a demon... it attacked me. It chased me into the woods and I ran and ran..." he explained, shaking as he retold the events. "And... I ended up here."  
  
    At the mention of a demon, immense giggling surrounded them. A mist of black appeared a few meters away. As the fog cleared, Dave could make out the appearance of the demon. She had short black hair, just above the shoulder blades. Her eyes were like a cat's; green and suspicious. She had nails that were black, sharp enough to pierce skin. She wore a blood covered, oversized, green jacket. Her pupils gleamed with a tint of pink light as she ran towards them.  
  
     She was swift, and before they had time to react, in a flash she had passed them, heading towards the raven-haired male. Her hand gripped his throat harshly, her claws digging dangerously near his pulse. "John! I only wanted to play," she said giggling, her smile revealing pointed fangs. "Now we can continue our game of tag!"  
  
     She paused.  
  
     "But I caught you... So I win!" she laughed. "Remember our deal? You win, you live... But if _I_ win, you belong to me!" She squeezed harder, a cough escaping 'John's' mouth, blood starting to flow from the side of his mouth. He scratched at her hands, but her grip wouldn't loosen and would tighten.  
  
     The Striders were frozen.  
  
     The life was slipping from the ravenette's blue orbs.  
  
     Dave couldn't take the stillness anymore, watching someone die before his eyes. He charged forward, gripping his sword so tight that his knuckles turned white. With a swift swipe he sliced her side, splitting her jacket and instantly staining it with dark red blood. She let out a gasp of pain as the blonde impaled her again, this time, making sure to fatally wound her by stabbing her chest.  
  
      Her hand dropped the boy she nearly killed. He crumpled to the ground, but Dave noted his eyes were closed and he showed no intentions of waking up.  
  
      He really hoped he was just unconscious.  
  
      "Y-You saved him a-and you didn't e-e-even know him..." she stuttered, coughing up blood. She grinned cockily. "This is w-worthy of... the...sh-shipping wall."  
  
      And with that she sped away, leaving a trail of her demonic blood behind.  
                                                                                                                         
                                                                 ~  
      Luckily, the male was still alive.  
  
      Dave knew, he was breathing down his neck.  
  
      But why the hell did he have to carry him to the car? Dirk was stronger, and frankly he didn't enjoy carrying more than a hundred pounds on his back.  
  
      _"'But I'm the one who's driving,'"_ Dave mentally mocked his brother's words.  
  
      "So where do I dump the body?" he asked.  
  
     "Obviously the backseat, where else would he fit?" Dirk responded.  
  
     "The trunk was also an option."  
  
     Dirk rolled his eyes as he unlocked the red car, a beeping noise seeming unnatural in the midst of silence. Dave dumped the male on the tan seats, not particularly caring if he woke up or not. As he slammed the door shut, he cracked his back, relieved that the pain was gone.  
  
     Dave slid into the front seat, not caring to buckle up his seatbelt, it's not like the cops ever decided to patrol at night, they were terrified of night patrols. "I'm still suspicious," he stated, carefully eyeing the mud covered male in the backseat.  
  
     "About what?"  
  
     "Don't 'about what' me. You know damn well when I sliced that demon the levels only went down a bar," Dave replied, hand on his blade, ready to draw it.  
  
     "What are you implying, Dave?" the amber-eyed male asked, a sharp tone in his voice.   
  
     From the corner of his eye, Dave saw the blue-orbed male stirring. Slowly, he propped himself up in his seat, putting a tan hand to his head, trying to register his new surroundings.   
  
     Slowly, Dave drew his blade, the metal making a slight hissing sound.  
  
     "Dave," his brother cautioned.  
  
     Dave's gut was telling him this was a demon. His common sense was being replaced by the thoughts of only one goal. To kill the damn demon sitting in the back of the car.  
  
     " _Dave."  
  
     _One quick slice and he'd kill it.  
  
     " _DAVE!"_ His brother screamed as he grabbed his sword. Swiftly, he sliced down the male's chest, tearing his shirt and staining it with blood. The demon's blue eyes widened as grimaced at the pain, holding back a scream.  
  
    "Quit it with the illusion already, I fucking know what you are," the blonde sneered as he put the blade close to his throat, threatening to slit it any moment.  
  
     He smirked at his threat. "And I was really looking forward to how this prank ended this time. But it looks like you guys hate having fun." Almost instantly, his human features changed. His teeth came to a point and his ears grew pointed. His nails grew sharper and turned black. The wounds that the previous demon had inflicted, as well as the ones Dave had caused, remained, but the others vanished.  
  
     The blonde realized that the demon was twirling his fingers, a light gust and blue tint emitting from the spirals. His eyes glimmered pink. He realized too late what it meant.  
  
     They jerked forward, Dave nearly losing his balance and almost falling off of the demon's lap. "I'll kill you, I swear to God. One swipe and you're done for, demon."  
  
     "The names John, it's more polite to address someone by their name." He paused, blowing a stray hair from his face. "You also seem to be forgetting we're 1,000 feet in the air. Try a single stab or slice, you both fall to your deaths while I watch you beg for mercy."  
  
     Dave growled as he grabbed John's jaw bone, squeezing it tightly. "What the hell were you doing in restricted areas? You damn demons must've had a reason to be there. What was it? Hidden energy? Or your headquarters?"  
  
     "That's none of your business, _Dave,"_ his eyes radiated pink light again. "It's information you won't find out

 

     "I'll _fucking_ kill you--"

     Just as he was about to slice the blade across John's neck, a thick pain exploded in his skull. Slowly he crumpled backwards, dropping his blade as slowly, he started losing sight. Soon he swimming in a pool of darkness, out cold.  
  
     The mistake in the action was one thing.  
  
     John had gotten a glimpse of his eyes as his shades fell off.  
  
     And they were unmistakably red.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which I have too much fun with flashback dreams.

His skull burned.

 

     His eyelids laced with fire.

 

     " _Come to me."_  


_"I can help."_

_"I'll melt your worries away."_

_"Just come to me."_

_~_

 

  
The boy climbed onto his guardians lap. He smiled widely, his toothy grin growing bigger as his bro said what he'd been waiting to hear all week. "Your gift came in today, wanna try them on?"

 

     "Yes!" He reached for the package, but his bro only held higher, to heights Dave couldn't reach. "Bro! C'mon, I've been waiting all week!"

 

     He chuckled and ruffled his blonde locks. "Hold on now, lil' man. Let me get them out of the package," he opened the cardboard box, which was heavily taped. His glove covered hands lifting the pointy glasses, careful not to smudge the black frames. He placed them on Dave's face, he struggled to not laugh at how ridiculous the kid looked in the oversized glasses, but they would have to do. Anything that covered his eyes would be fine.

 

     Anything that covered the piercing red.

 

     "They feel weird," he complained, trying to adjust the foreign object on his face. Instead of fixing the size, though, he only made the accessory cockeyed. "I feel stupid!"

 

     His guardian frowned, "You don't look stupid..." he paused, looking for the right word to use. "You look, ironic."

 

     "Ironic?" The boy frowned, not knowing what the word meant. "I don't know what that means! Why do I have to wear these dumb things anyway?!"

 

     Tears slipped from the child's red orbs. "C'mon, Dave. Ironic means you're cool. Those shades are sending some sweet signals to the ironic radar. It's saying you look like you just popped out of that one awesome anime and can slash any enemy's face out with a sword in no time." He noticed Dave smile just a bit more, he was laughing at the anime his Bro was talking about, even if he had never watched it before. "Besides, you said kids were making fun of you at school, right? Well those shades block out all the rude things they say and send them right back to them, so you don't have to deal with their bullshit."

 

     "Because I'm ironic?" He asked, smiling.

 

     "Because, you're ironic," Bro smiled and pointed two fingers right back at him.

 

     "Bro? Are they gonna always fit weird?"

 

     "Of course not. You'll grow into them eventually, maybe I could make some adjustments to them, later."

 

     His elder brother ran into the living room, nearly slipping on the tiled floor in his excitement. He clutched a katana, an older model their guardian had given him to practice with. "Guys! Guys! Look! I modeled the old katana into the one Kamina uses, with that kick-butt design on the handle! It's modeled with an automatic sheath! But... It's kinda faulty because the gears took a while to figure out. Maybe I can fix it though."

 

     "Bro, what's a sheath?"

 

     Dirk's amber hues stared at Dave. He raised an eyebrow, giving him that 'are you serious' look. "Dave, don't be stupid! We're hunters and you don't even know what a sheath is, how is that possible?"

 

     His bro shot Dirk a warning glance, telling him this was not the time to bring up the subject. Dirk heaved a heavy sigh as he dragged his metal blade back to his room, the sheath making a high pitched squeaking sound on the wooden floor.

 

     "Bro! When I grow up we're gonna be hunters, right?" The blonde smiled, thinking thoughts of adventure and excitement. "You said they'll be training! We're gonna train together, well you'll train me! Right?"

 

     His guardian frowned, considering the question too deeply. He wasn't even sure he'd live long enough to see Dave and Dirk kick demon ass. But despite this, the smile the young blonde was giving him was adorable. Crushing his spirits wasn't his priority, so he just replied with a simple nod and a smile.

 

     "Promise?"

 

     "Promise, kid."

 

~

 

 

     Dave hissed at the antibacterial spray his elder brother squirted on his knees, still in shock from the destruction at his Elementary school. He brought a hand to his cheek, still feeling the thick blood of the demon Dirk had slayed on top of him. Curiosity sprouted in his mind, his hand being brought to his mouth. He licked some of the blood. He couldn't differentiate how it was different from human blood, the only way he could tell was that it was a much darker hue than human blood. It tasted similar too.

 

     "It's not my fault you got a bunch of cuts from that fall," Dirk commented as he wrapped a gauze bandage around Dave's right knee, preventing the cuts from bleeding any further. "But it's not your fault they came after you, either."

 

     "Dirk, what types of demons were those? I haven't seen them before. We usually come across the lower classed ones," Dave wondered as he moved his elbow, trying to accustom to the tight binding on his joint.

 

     The amber-eyed male placed a bandage on the younger's freckled leg, a small scrape in the area, "Those were Observers. Slightly higher in status than commoners. They usually have some mechanical eyewear with them, top class to get the gossip on who the Reckoness wants to become part of her demon army. Stuff like that"

 

     "Their blood tastes... Different."

 

     Dirk grimaced, disgust sprouting all over his face. "Dude, don't taste their blood. That's gross."

 

     "It tastes like human blood."

 

     "Dave."

 

     "Is it human blood?"

 

     "Dave, no."

 

     "It... It tastes like my blood. Like when I have a nosebleed and it accidentally goes in my mouth..."

 

     " _Dave,_ it's demon blood. Nothing similar, you're just in shock," Dirk replied hastily, but his eyes were wary, as if he was hiding something. Something Dave didn't know.

    

      A piercing slam sounded in the living room, rattling the medicine cabinet in the brightly lit bathroom. Frantic footsteps sounded. "Dave? Dirk? Are you home?"

 

      "We're in the bathroom, bro!" Dave yelled as Dirk bandaged  the last cut on Dave's leg. He could recognize the voice anywhere.

 

      A mix of anger and relief was on bro's face. His glasses were slightly cracked, his white dress shirt ripped, covered in soot and dark red blood. Even his sheathed katana was soaked in crimson, some of the drops spilling onto the hardwood floor. His spiked hair had lost his signature grey hat, all that was left was matted blonde locks.

 

      He pulled the two of them into an embrace, hugging them for dear life, for God knows what reason. "You two... God damn I thought you were dead."

 

      "You can blame Dave if we went on the death toll, he went looking for me and we got attacked by two Observer type. I'm pretty sure I finished them off though," Dirk replied, trying to pry the man's arms off of him.

 

     Bro grabbed Dirk's shoulders, unhanding them both from the hug. "You killed your first couple of demons? Alright, even in this newfound chaos there's a first time for everything. Use that katana you made?"

 

     "Yeah, it didn't work as much as I hoped for it to. Maybe I can fix it later, but I ran out of parts and with all the meteors, we're not going anywhere." He paused. "Shouldn't you be out? I thought you were supposed to kill Demon-Spawn right now."

 

     Dave ignored the rest of the conversation his elder brother and guardian continued. He felt uneasy, and it wasn't just all the bandages wrapped around him. The air was uneasy, as if something bad could happen any second. His senses screamed at him he was being watched, a camera stalking his every move.

 

     _Creak_  


_Creak_

_Tap_

 

  
"Dave are you okay?" His brother waving a hand in front of his eyes.

 

     _"No, please stop,"_ Dave pleaded, knowing how this would turn out. _"Wake up, god dammit. I don't need to see it again."_  


 

  
An entity crashed through the window, glass shattering everywhere. Swiftly, the thing tackled Dave's guardian, leaving him no time to comprehend the situation, much less pull out his katana.

 

     The figure had a matted mess of blonde curls, dried and crusted with dark red blood. She was wounded, a crudely wrapped bandage around her chest area, crimson seeping through the white bandage. Her face was filled with a sickening look of loathing, making you scared just looking at her.

 

      She was no stranger, he had seen her earlier.

 

     It was the demon Dirk had supposedly slain.

 

     " _Stop, please."_  


_"I don't need to see my mistakes again."_

 

  
He wanted to run. Push the demon off, grab his guardian's katana and make her go back to the burning embers she came from. Use what he'd been taught to finally be heroic for a chance. He screamed at himself is his mind, profanities to make himself move.

 

     But he was frozen, his fear acting as the glue to hold him to the floor, bound to do nothing. Fear was making him it's slave, it's only request to stare in shock.

 

     _"Move! Just move you idiot!"_  


 

  
He didn't noticed his bro waving at him, yelling at the top of his lungs to escape. Flee so he and his elder brother could safely run away from the Demon-Spawn that was planning on massacring them all. He was using his final wishes to tell Dave to leave him, to go and forget about him.

 

     "I was always prepared to die," he had told him once.

 

     It wasn't until his brother's arms wrapped around his waist that he acted. Not an act of bravery, but an act he called cowardice. "Dirk! No! Bro!"

 

      "Dave, stop! We need to go!" His brother yelled, hauling him over his shoulder, heading for the door. He ran as fast as a fifth grader could carry the weight of his younger sibling.

 

      "No!" he screamed at the top of his lungs, pulling on Dirk's hand, pounding on it. Anything to get him free. "Dirk! No!"

 

     Tears burned his eyelids as he pulled away from his brother, scurrying as fast as he could to the living area, where he saw his bro last.

 

     _Clunk_  


 

  
The distinct thunk of metal being stabbed into flesh echoed off the walls.

 

     _"Stop. I don't want to see again. Please."_  


 

  
He wanted to screech until his voice ached. To scream for what his eyes were stained with. His jaw dropped, a freckled hand slowly trembling to cover it. His cheeks were wet, a stream of tears rolling down as he closed his orbs until they burned from the pressure they induced.

 

     Slowly, he walked over to the corpse. Surely it was an illusion, it had to be.

 

     Oh dear _God_ , it had to be.

 

     He kneeled, feeling the warm blood soak through his jeans. The air smelled strongly of iron, a scent so repulsive he wanted to empty his stomach of it's contents. But his heart already felt empty, it wasn't even a heart anymore. It felt like it had been shredded and stabbed with thorns. The thorns poisoning him with grief, slowly killing any joy he had once felt.

 

     "Bro... You're o-kay," he reassured. "You're... Ok-ay."

 

     He held his guardian's head to his chest, the sword impaled in him sinking deeper as he moved the body. He felt his neck, searching for a pulse.

 

     It was as dead as a doornail.

 

     "Im sorry... I-I'm so sorry!" the blonde wailed, his tears soaking his guardian's hair. "I'm sorry! I'm... Sorry."

 

     _"I'm such a failure."_  


_"I couldn't even save my damn bro."_

 

  
"Dave," Dirk tried to rest a had on Dave's shoulder, unsure of how to comfort him. Unsure of how to deal with this himself. He had never thought this moment would arrive this early on in their lifetimes.

 

     "Stop it!" Dave yelled, hugging his guardian's head closer to his chest. He didn't want to let go, he was overwhelmed with this new emotion, it was like being submerged completely underwater. He was alone and helpless. "It's _your_ fault. He would've been here right now if you would've let me."

 

     _"_ It's your fault," Dave repeated in a harsh whisper.

 

~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will love you forever if you comment.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John is a snitch and that's getting Dave in some deep shit.

He should've at least _stolen_ the car.

 

     But of course not. Being the dumbass he is, John never thought the elder brother had the guts to actually slice part of his neck, which now throbbed and ached as he attempted to put his hand on the wound. Honestly, what was that guy's deal anyway? Who even cared about the loss of one pitiful human, especially a younger nuisance of a brother. John would never understand.

 

     _"Those are the least of your worries,"_ he thought to himself.

 

    Oh lord, his Nanna was going to kill him. He'd been gone for a god portion of the day, not to mention he'd arrive bloody, bruised, and raggedy. Now because he never bothered to steal the stupid vehicle, he'd show up even later than he planned to.

 

     The woods were a nuisance to navigate in, too dark to pinpoint landmarks, too eerily deserted for him to fly around in. If he used one bit of his bioelectricity, he'd make every hunter's tracker go wild. The only bright side of this was that the canopy of tree branches served as an umbrella to shield him from the rain.

 

     "Oh come on, this walk is taking forever," he whined as his feet dragged along like bricks of lead.

 

     His blue orbs caught sight of the abandoned factory.

 

     Oh joy, he was finally there.

 

     He would've thrown a party at the sight of his home, but there was one minor detail that rained on his parade.

 

     _Jake_ was there, and he didn't look too happy with his arms crossed. John could tell his emerald eyes were staring at his nonexistent soul. John didn't need to worry about Nanna, Jake would kill him before she even had the opportunity. Slowly he made his way to the entrance.

 

     Before he even had the chance to react, he was already being dragged in. And with a flash, the door slapped shut and his back collided with the concrete wall behind him, which sent a stab a pain back through the wound on his neck.

 

     Calloused hands grabbed the collar of his shirt and another slammed next to his head.

 

     "What did I fucking tell you?"

 

     "I have no idea what you're talking about," John struggled to speak behind clenched teeth. He could already see the pink glow settling around Jake's hues. He was pissed off.

 

     "I told you to _stay away from those bloody hunters,_ " He growled this time. "Don't even try to deny it you lowly douchemuffin. I can smell _his_ scent on you."

 

    "I was only having fun!" John protested, "I went to see my dad and I happened to mess with them along the way, what trouble for you all could I possibly have caused?"

 

     "Oh you little- You _friggin' idiot._ Jane has been worried sick about you for what seems like forever! Jade has been crying her eyes out since you were late! And here you are babbling about how it was part of idiotic hijinks you were up to? You're just lucky that I haven't--"

 

     "John!"

 

     He was attacked by a hug that made him lose his breath. He could feel the faint sobbing of a trembling Jade in his arms. Oh God, he felt horrible if that was even possible. He had made Jade cry, and he knew perfectly well how tough she was and all it took to make her shed tears.

 

     When she pulled away he could see her red puffy eyes, and how relieved yet sorrowful she appeared. "John! You idiot! I- I thought you were dead! You said you'd be back right away but when you never came back. . . We were all so worried!" she paused and averted her bright green hues to his wound. "Oh my gosh! Your neck, it's. . . It's bleeding! Wh-What happened?"

 

     Jake's pointed ear perked. The word wound had caught his attention. He walked over curiously, moving Jade out of the way. Carefully he placed with hand on John's wound, earning a hiss of pain from the raven haired male. It felt like the slice was being reopened, but this time fire was being poured in.

 

     "Harmless shenanigans huh? You've been using your bioelectricity, if you hadn't this would've been nearly healed by now." Jake paused, sticking a finger deeper into the wound on his neck. John had to put a hand on his mouth to keep a scream from erupting in his throat. "Gross, it's that one gosh darned type of steel. You dealt with the Striders, didn't you?"

 

     John smirked, "How do you know the type of blade the Striders use?"

 

     The taller scowled, "None of your concern."

 

     ***

 

     "Oww! Nanna careful, that hurts!" John grimaced as his Nanna wrapped his wound while she quickly cleaned another cut.

 

     "Hold still John, I have to properly wrap this. If I don't, it might not heal properly," she searched her medicine cabinets for healing medicines.

 

     John had to tell her what he had seen.

 

     "Hey Nanna. . ."

 

     "Yes John?"

 

     "He had red eyes."

 

     "John, be more specific. Who on earth are you preaching on about?"

 

     "One of the Striders. The younger one I believe. He's about my age."

 

     _crash_  


 

  
Glass and medicine splattered across the floor as his Nanna dropped a bottle. "Oh heavens. John, this isn't one of your pranks again is it? You nearly gave me a heart attack."

 

     John smiled devilishly, "His brother seemed awfully protective of him too. You could say _Dave_ even had a bit of a temper."

 

     "What color were they again?" Her blood red lips were pursed in a thin line.

 

     "Red."

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I made Jake say "lowly douchemuffin"


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haha sorry this took so long

 

Now, Dave was used to having headaches. Nightmares crawled into his mind frequently and each one felt the need to bring him the gift of a migraine with them. But a nightmare _and_ getting knocked upside the head? That was pure hell. Actually no, he'll take that back, going to hell and back would be like a walk in the park compared the exploding headache he's having.

"I told you not to get up!" Roxy sighs in frustration, hurriedly shoving his head back on his pillow. It doesn't feel any better actually, he can feel a huge bump on his head which hurts even more when he lays on it. He groans in pain as the blonde in front of him gently places a damp cloth on his forehead. Evidently it doesn't help one bit, he doesn't have a fever, he has an exploding migraine, but now--hold on it gets better--his face is wet too. What a lovely morning to start off a lovely day.

"I wasn't aware you were such a _great_ doctor," he's very much aware of how much sarcasm he's putting into his words. Frankly, Dave doesn't care. He's pissed, tired, feels like his head has been smashed against a cement wall a million times, and he needs his coffee to function properly. Hopefully the caffeine will tone down his asshole meter, but he can't bet on it.

Roxy snorts. "You're being awfully nice to someone who took the time to drag you from the backseat of a car while it was raining. Why don't I go do more things for you while continue to be an ass?" She replies not very happy with the situation either. She grabs the cloth off of his forehead, grabs his shoulders and makes him sit up. He hisses when her force gives him whiplash, but he manages. Silently he reaches for his sunglasses on his bedside table, and quickly rests them on the bridge of his nose.

"Where's Rose?"

"She's out, meeting a friend."

"Dirk?"

"School stuff, needs to get some work done with his buds."

Dave rolls his eyes, though he's quite sure Roxy can't see the action, which is good in some aspects. Dave didn't go to school, nor did he ever think he needed to. He wasn't _stupid,_ despite what most people would instantly think. Yes he knows how to work out an equation, but anything else isn't too helpful to him. Dirk had felt otherwise though, he still put up with the bullshit of going to high school and dealing with obnoxious acne covered teens, completely okay with it. Dave on the other hand accompanied him for the first day and immediately decided the system hadn't changed one bit since he had been eight. Between the snide remarks about how he wore sunglasses indoors to the countless sayings of 'oh my god Teresa did you see the new kid, he's so weird.' He decided, he'd rather seclude himself in his bedroom for seven hours then spend it around other people.

"I take it you're the one who got stuck with me?" He's on the floor fishing around his pile of old clothes looking around for his jacket. She mumbles out an explanation at some point, but he's tuned her out by now. Yes he could hear the rain beating down on his window like an angry neighbor telling him to shut off his music because it was 'too damn loud.' Did he still have a headache? Yes, yes he did. But there he was, pulling on his coat, which he found under his bed, and trying to make a run for it.

Not only was his migraine threatening to make his head explode, but his conscious was also bitching on the fact that he let himself be taken care of by Roxy. Really, the last thing he ever wanted was someone fussing over him like a worried mother after her kid gets a scrape. Not that he'd ever known what that felt like, considering he grew up with only a male parental figure, but he realized he was borderline of it nowadays. First it was Dirk, never letting him go anywhere alone until the day he turned fifteen and looking at him like he was an abandoned dog on the streets, waiting to be pitied. Then it was the Lalondes. Since the day they opened up their doors to him and Dirk, they always eyed him like some charity case that couldn't take care of himself.

He was sick of it.

Soon he was shuffling his way to the door, staring at the coatrack that didn't really deserve to be called a coatrack. There weren't even coats hung on it, just swords and katanas. Wow talk about a misleading name.

"Dave! You can't seriously be heading out already. And don't give me some bullshit excuse that your headache is gone already, because you and I both know you were practically dying in that bedroom not even five minutes ago." She has her hands on her hips at this point, staring him down and challenging him to run out of the front door. "We both know you have to stay here or else it's not going to be a very happy day for anyone, is it?"

"Coffee."

She frowns. "What?"

"Coffee. I'm getting coffee. I can't function without caffeine in my veins and at the moment I really could care less if my head feels like it's being pounded in with a hammer."

"We have coffee here. I'll make it for you."

He sighs a bit too melodramatically. "Roxy, we both know you haven't laid a finger on that coffee machine since you worked at Starbucks, and even then you only wanted the job to make cutesy eyes at the guys with 'choice asses.' So please if you don't want the fundamental balance of the universe to collapse, just let me go."

"Fine. But if Dirk's mug shot pops up on channel seven and the words under him read 'Man kills millions because his fucking brother couldn't stay home and listen to the babe with the nice face,' then you owe me big time," she says. "Actually by big time I mean a hundred bucks."

He smiles slightly at her and grabs his sheathed sword from the established not-actually-a-coatrack-rack, and slides it across his chest. This earns a 'I-can't-fucking-believe-you're-bringing-that-with-you' look from Roxy. But at the moment coffee is calling his name and is seducing him more than any other prostitute could. Dave physically cringes at the fact that he is seduced by coffee, but honestly if you bought him a whole Starbucks shop for himself, he'd marry you in a heartbeat.

*******

_Rain._

It was always _raining._ If there was a million dollar question he could answer anyone, he'd guarantee it would be along the lines of asking him what April provided, and the obvious answer would be that it always rained. Now don't get Dave wrong, rain was calming. It gave him the comfort that no human could provide when he had trouble falling asleep. Even that reason alone was not enough for him to forget the frequent rainfall, though. He never understood why, but he was more of a winter person. Winter was the best season because for one thing, demons rarely decided to show their faces during the cold. Secondly, he took delight in watching the fire burn away in their fireplace. It was probably odd, but any type of fire he was fond of. Especially when it died down, the embers would glow and illuminate the ashes around them, then it got to the point where it was completely ebony black. By that time Dave's thoughts would go along the lines of 'oh what the fuck I've been sitting here for hours, seriously?' Then he'd silently scold himself because wow, he wasn't ever going to get that time back.

Long story short, Dave was grumbling beneath his hood at the moment and cursing the month of April, because he was _soaked_. He's pretty sure soaked is an understatement though because this is ridiculous. His pants are hanging awkwardly in the places that never fit him properly, and he's pretty sure he's heavier than the amount of makeup Kim Kardashian uses to make herself presentable.

Despite this though, he's staring at the outside of Starbucks from his foggy car door. He's decided if he's made it this far, he can sure as hell make it to the front of the damn coffee shop, because let's be honest, he is not going back home to face Roxy empty handed after the scene he made.

So there he was dragging himself to the front of the shop shoving the front door open. More than a few eyes snapped directly his way, because it apparently wasn't normal for a guy to be wearing sunglasses indoors whilst carrying a sword to show up at Starbucks. His shoes weren't doing him any favors either, they were squeaking annoyingly and he was pretty sure this one man was eyeing him suspiciously, like he was some sort of thug. He doesn't blame him though, he probably shouldn't have chosen his clothing from the floor in the first place.

His coffee is bitter. He likes it that way. He's pretty sure if a demon ever got their hands on his soul it'd taste exactly like his coffee, acidic and devoid of any sweetness. It was a fitting flavor for him, he supposed. Don't get him wrong, he's tried coffee mixed with sugar, cream, milk, you name it, it just never gave him the satisfaction that the sharp taste of his preferred coffee did.

There was also no way he was going to swallow the liquid sugar every teenage girl indulged themselves in.

His red orbs are boring through the window, into the outside. He can hear conversations going on around him, buzzing in his ears like an annoying insect. He could eavesdrop if he pleased, but he didn't need to add to the list of weird shit he does. Besides he's petty sure he already looks questionable enough with a sword strapped to his back, sitting isolated at a table, staring at the downpour.

Then he swears he hears someone sit directly in front of him. He's prepared to fight someone at the moment, he doesn't need his peace disturbed. Not to mention he's had a shitty week and all he wants is to finish his coffee and hightail it out of there.

"So are those glasses just because you're a fan of the accessory, or are you seriously that much of a douchebag?" The voice, which Dave assumes belongs to the person sitting across from him asks. He's still looking at the rain though, maybe the guy'll be easier to deal with that way.

"Can you leave me alone?"

"Well, sorry, but if you feel you're that much of a princess you need a whole table to yourself you're out of luck," he jerks a thumb to the whole coffee shop, crowded with angsty acne covered teenagers, a line forming at the register. "This place is full."

He knits his eyebrows together for two reasons. One, he really couldn't care less if he sliced this guy in half, he'd very much like to have his foul tasting beverage in peace, thank you very much. Two, he could've _sworn_ the place was nearly empty a while ago. Besides, wasn't it too early in the morning? Didn't people work at this hour? The last time he checked no one liked getting up before noon.

He shakes it off, because it's very likely he wasted most of his time staring out a window, and instead decides to entertain himself with the guy.

"Well if you must know the answer to the question, I'm a super hero and these sweet ass shades hide my true identity."

"Dude, they only cover ten percent of your face. Kind of a lame way to hide your identity if you ask me."

"Then what was the point of Robin's mask?" Dave hoped this guy understood his references, he really wasn't in the mood to explain them. "His covered ten percent of his face and look how famous he is now."

"Yeah but most people know him as a sidekick." He pauses, peering at him through his shades. "Are you calling yourself a sidekick?"

Dave snorts, because yes, sidekick is definitely the word to describe him. Dirk always received the most credit, Dirk took any interview he could, never bothering to make Dave show his face. But yes at times he was caught up in a quick interview, sometimes photographers accidentally snapped his photo, and those times Dirk nearly ate him alive.

"In a way, that's probably accurate." Seriously this guy must've lived under a rock if he didn't even have a slight clue to what he did for a living. He didn't mind it, despite how much he denied it, he was having fun with the conversation. Dave eyed him from under his sunglasses. The guy wasn't half bad looking. He had jet black hair, at least from what he could see beneath his dark blue hoodie. He was pale, and his eyes were a deep brown, nearly black. It was an odd contrast albeit, but he was cute, no denying that.

"So what's your name?"

"You may refer to me as 'your majesty," he makes air quotations around the name.

He laughs, and the blonde can't help it when his lips twitch upwards. It's the stupidest laugh he's ever heard, slightly like a crossbreed with a goose and a cat being strangled to death, but he hasn't made someone laugh in a non sarcastic manner in years, he never imagined he'd want to, but he does.

"Alright, 'your majesty,' since you insist on code names, you can call me GT."

"GT? What type of alias is that? It literally seems like you forgot the order of the alphabet and smashed two letters together."

"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't. At least mine isn't full of arrogance."

"Well, there's no denying that I'm not the most gorgeous human being on the planet. Not to mention deserving of the world record for biggest prick."

"There's no denying the most gorgeous human being part, though."

Dave was glad he was the type who blushed the most in his ears, because you wouldn't be able to tell the difference between his eyes and his skin if he didn't.

"Oh fuck you."

He frowns, "Wow, you are a prick." He pauses, squinting at him. "But I wouldn't hesitate if you asked me again."

"Oh my fucking God."

GT smiles to himself as he annoyingly slurps. His drink looked like he had just raided candyland and tried to stuff everything he could into a cup. Dave physically grimaced at the cavity-inducing beverage.

"Your teeth are going to rot out if you keep drinking that crap," he points to his clear cup, with the many layers of fudge, some sort of red stuff, caramel, and whipped cream. "Seriously _what_ is that?"

He shrugs, "It's called strawberry shortcake, but I added a whole bunch of unhealthy crap because there was nobody stopping me."

"Don't you have any impulse control?"

"No. My family in most of my impulse control and they're not here right now, so I have the right to get a delicious beverage if I please." He eyes the coffee cup Dave is holding. "I bet that coffee is dark and bitter, like your soul."

"You should've bet money on guessing my coffee because that's exactly what I'm drinking." He pauses to take a drink. "Funny enough that's what I think my soul would taste like, y'know, matches my personality."

The ravenette frowns, folding his hands in front of him, hiding his mouth. "You believe in that demon stuff? I feel like it's just a myth, but then again I've never seen one so I guess I am a bit of a skeptic."

This guy must be an idiot if he thinks demons don't exist.

They're talking for a lifetime after that, so much he's pretty sure the waitress is waiting for them to fucking order something or leave because there are a lot of people crammed into booths. They pay her no mind though, because they're currently discussing the best way to murder a zombie with a sword, typical dorky things. Dave's pretty sure Dirk texts and calls him a couple times, he can feel his phone vibrating in his pocket feverously, but he ignores it. Dirk really needs to learn to let him enjoy things.

He's not aware that his migraine is pounding though. That temptation is swirling around in his brain, a demon whispering desires into his mind, waiting for him to take the bait. Waiting for him to welcome him with open arms.

He's not aware that he's attracted this much attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No offense against any Robin fans though.
> 
> I'll love you 5 ever if you comment.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this while listening to Unravel hour long version.

 

Dave was hungry.

It wasn't _normal_ hunger, mind you.

Of course he had been eating. It was the usual three meals a day, snacks in between. Nothing filled his gnawing hunger in his gut. No matter what he ate he felt _empty,_ if empty was even a way to describe hunger. It felt like his stomach had no contents, an empty void in space.

That wasn't even the worst part.

The hunger pains were pure torture.

The pain would start in his gut, and shoot into every nerve in his body. Even after they passed though his stomach still burned with irritation. He was so hungry he could probably empty out the fridge at this point.

But he wouldn't, because he tried that earlier this week. The only thing it earned him was a smack upside the head from Roxy because she had to clean up the pig sty of a mess he had left on the floor and a scolding from Dirk because now he had to put effort into going out and picking up more groceries. Not to mention he also eyed him suspiciously, he didn't need anymore of that.

So he tried to lull himself to sleep. Dave had discovered he lost consciousness, it eased the pain in his gut to an extent when he woke up and well-he'd take any amount of time away from the hunger, whether is be ten minutes or a couple of hours. He'd take all he could get.

And soon enough the darkness pulled away him away, stripping him of his sanity and throwing him in the caged prison he called his mind.

*******

Dave awoke to murky mist clouding his vision. Trees went as far as his eye could see, but they weren't quite normal. They gnarled and swirled and connected in such a way that they formed a cage like butterfly net all around him, making it impossible to find any for of escape route. The sky above didn't seem like any sort of natural color. A lavender tinted light casted gloomy shadows at the grass at his feet and everything else in his surroundings for that matter. He hadn't seen this place before, and definitely wasn't any sort of a memory.

And then out of the corner of his eye he swore he saw something shift, a rustle of the wind perhaps, but it still couldn't have been that. The clearing was too dead to even deserve movement.

There was flash of black to his right, and he snapped his head towards it, hoping to catch whatever it was. Nothing was there, because it obviously wouldn't have stayed there for long, and then there was the same brief flash to his left. He growled, annoyed with whatever was screwing with his head, but it wasn't like he could command the thing to show it's face, because that just wasn't how his mind liked to play. Nothing was ever fair in this terrain.

"Who's there?" the blonde asked, quite irritated at this point. In response, the trees only whispered quietly, seemingly debating and arguing among themselves like a silenced crowd about to make a rash decision.

His vision hazed as an ebony fog billowed around his feet, curling around all his joints. The mist flocked into the middle of the cramped clearing, slowly forming what seemed to be a figure.

"What are you?" Dave yelled at it, because this was starting to freak him out. Suddenly the hunger didn't sound as bad as this situation.

The figure giggled menacingly, and opened two blue orbs. Sapphire stared back into his ruby red eyes. Entranced, he couldn't pull away his gaze. Dave wanted to give this figure his will. He wanted to be consumed alive by it. He wanted it to tamper with the very entity who fabricated it.

The figure snorted and smirked, revealing pointed teeth. "Your will is surprisingly weak y'know. I was expecting more and now I'm kind of disappointed." The figure grabbed Dave's jaw. Suddenly his glasses evaporated into dust, making Dave very aware at how the being could freely gaze upon them, which was not something he ever would let anyone do, especially not this guy, at least he assumed it was a guy.

"Let go of me."

"I'm afraid I can't quite do that, sweetheart. If I let go of you that hunger will eat you alive, and quite frankly I don't think you'll want to see the results," he frowned. "Consider me doing a favor for you."

Dave's heart practically erupted from his chest. His breath hitched, because this person knew about the hunger pains. He hadn't told anyone yet. He had planned to tell Dirk after he woke up, just to test if the issue was still present.

Dave punched the figure in what he presumed was his gut. His eyes widened in surprise as he found the figure was solid, despite the misty appearance that would tell you otherwise. "Let me go now!"

"Oh my God, you're making a mountain out of a molehill Dave, calm down please," The figure grunted, pinning the blonde to the nearest tree. He snapped his fingers, and the darkness willingly wrapped itself around the blonde's figure. "You can't wake up yet, and it's my job to make sure you don't."

"You want me to never wake up from this living hell?" Dave snapped, struggling against his binds.

"This isn't even _close_ to hell Dave. I know that firsthand so don't you even try to make a witty response like 'how would you know?' Just trust me, I know." The figure sighed frustratingly and did what looked like pacing. "Just please stop struggling, I'll get there- I mean it'll all blow over in a minute"

"Let me go already!" Dave yelled as he squinted at the figure. He screamed in anger as he ripped an arm free from one of the dark binds, biting his tongue to hold back a scream, because his arm felt like a million needles were being stuck to his skin. "You asshole, just let me wake up!"

Dave ripped himself from the tree and fell to the ground, letting out an earsplitting scream as he covered his own ears. The screams echoed all throughout the forest, coming up through the ground, breaking the ground and ruining whatever perfect flooring rested there before. He wanted out right now. He wanted the poison flowing through his veins to retreat and leave him _alone._ He screamed his throat raw and he didn't even notice that he had started foaming at his mouth, saliva dripping to the ground. His nails dug into his scalp and the familiar sting told him he had probably ripped out his own hair.

" _Shut up!_ " The figure kicked him onto his back, but Dave noticed he was grimacing in pain. " _Please just stop!_ "

The scent of smoke kicked his nostrils hard. It wafted all around them. The smoke wasn't the familiar one of a cigarette burning away slowly on a rainy day. It didn't billow nicely and swirl like the smoke that was all too familiar to him, the type that would come out of his Bro's mouth after he would take a long drag. It was more like the reckless smoke of a fire, tearing and destroying everything around them.

This was the type of smoke he loved.

Dave smiled slowly. "I want it all to burn."

The figure jumped on top of him, voice wavering ever so slightly. " _What?"_

"I. Want. It. All. To. Burn."

"No stop it!" His words swirled into Dave's mind, wrapping around his skull. " _It's too early. Calm down, you will not burn anything. You will calm down and wait. You will wait for the hunger to stop. Shut up, and calm down. Breathe."_

The fire died down to a low crackle.

Dave's stomach twisted in agony. The hunger was back. The hunger was in his dreams. The hunger was going to eat him alive.

The figure let out a sigh of relief. It's eyes burned a brighter blue, letting out a haze and blur of sapphire. "Almost there." He paused, suddenly staring at Dave with a look of malice and curiosity. "Bitter, huh?"

Dave blinked and his eye twitched, trying to pay attention to his words without doubling over in the torture his stomach was suffering. He wanted to throw up, but of course this was a dream, and he wasn't permitted to do so. "W-what?"

The figure stared at him, and all Dave could make out was a dreamy expression. "Y'know I  feel like I should test out your theory. You said you thought your soul was bitter, remember? I think I'll test that out, besides, it's not like there's any other way to fix that," He gestured a finger at Dave's stomach, which he assumed referred to his hunger.

"What're you-"

"Hold still."

His lips pressed against Dave's for the briefest of moments. Although that was only Dave in denial because it definitely lasted for more than a moment. Dave's never kissed guys before, or anyone if he was being perfectly honest. So he was being biased when he would say that it was the best kiss he's had ever, but he wasn't lying to himself because it was. Dave wasn't sure when, but he felt a fang prick his bottom lip, a bead of blood seeping from the cut only to have it licked away by the figure's tongue.

The figure pulled away staring at the blonde beneath him. "Your theories are surprisingly accurate. It was bitter. But not so bitter that it tastes like your coffee though, that's about how much you got wrong. It has a tinge of sweetness to it, though. I like that." Dave blushed brightly for a two of reasons. One, he had just been kissed, had his first kiss for that matter. Two, it took all of Dave's effort to avert his mind from the fact that the figure was straddling him. "What's wrong with you? You look pretty dumb right now, you're like ruby red-"

_Knock Knock_

" _Shit,_ " The figure cursed out loud at the noise, face turning into a serious expression this time, staring Dave right in the eye _._

"Why did you-"

_"Hush. Now listen to me, Dave. You're going to wake up in a minute, okay? And when you wake up you won't remember any of this, got it? None of it."_

The words swirled in the blonde's mind.

"Good," the figure stated.

The mist around him vanished along with the male, the trees unwound themselves, and the floor crumbled beneath him as the light started to burn through Dave's eyelids.

He would not remember a thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Shrugs* At least they kissed, right?  
> So I'm going to be going on a two week vacation to Mexico, where internet apparently doesn't exist unless you want to pay five dollars for 30 minutes to use the public ones, which isn't really worth it, but it might help with my inspiration and give me a nice change of scenery, so I'll see you in two weeks!
> 
> Comment maybe?


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